The Neptune Adventure
by WriteNThink89
Summary: An alteration of the story of "The Poseidon Adventure." Story of an undercover C-Sec detective on a luxury cruise liner bound for Illium. Halfway there, the ship suffers from an explosion, forcing them to crashland on an uncharted planet. With the survivors trapped, she needs to find the culprit while maintaining the peace and hopefully finding a way home. "M" for safety.
1. Boarding

**Note: Bioware owns the universe, I own my original characters. Please leave reviews! I love them! **

CHAPTER 1

"You're in luck, human. Apparently someone high up the chain of command likes you. You're free to board."

"Finally." Aimee Sanders held out her hand, waving her fingers impatiently. "If I were a real terrorist I would've blasted my way to the ship by now. Nice job." Her voice was impatient, snobish, degrading. Everything she wasn't. "Can I have my sword back now?"

Handling the weapon like it was a live bomb, the turian passed the katana over the counter, mandibles flaring in annoyance. The small booklett of her credentials skidded across the smooth surface. "Watch it, human. Just because you're allowed inside doesn't mean I can't detain you if I feel like you're a danger to the VIPs. Despite what you may think, you're far from the most valuable person on board."

Shrugging her weapon across her back, Aimee flashed a simpering grin at him. "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't want to embarass you or your men by beating your gunfire with a metal stick. I'm here to have fun, anyway." The booklett dissapeared into her duffel, which she hoised onto her left sholder, leaving her sword-hand free. A glance at her omni-tool's chronometer brought a slight frown. Thirty minutes until the _Neptune_ left port. She'd been in bars with more efficient security.

"Whatever. Just make sure you keep that thing sheathed or in your quarters." The cream-toned turian scrolled through his transluscent screen, tapping several buttons before closing it. "What do you need that relic for, anyway? You're not going to find any dueling partners on this ship or any training rooms, for that matter."

"Who said I use it for dueling?" Aimee winked and whirled around, long golden hair floating behind her as she strolled out of the security office and back into the main areas of the passenger liner. The instant the doors slid shut behind her, she heaved an enormous sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. Of course the start of her cruise wouldn't be easy. Nothing ever was with her. Even booking passage with her privilages had taken time with several snafu's. If she hadn't called in a favor, she would've had to resort to calling her father, an action she'd sworn to never do.

Supressing an involuntary shudder, Aimee straightened and joined the flow of foot traffic to the living areas of the ship. Pale gray eyes flicked everywhere, memorizing every detail while also admiring the finery. The human builders of the _Neptune_ had spared no expense when it came to catering to every species in the galaxy. The walls were lined with holographic scroll messages in every used dialect beneath pieces of art from many worlds. the floor wasn't carpeted, but a very attractive, clean surface as off-white as the rest of the walls.

A family of asari flowed around her; a matron, her two daughters, and a turian who had to be their father. That was interesting. If Aimee had learned her asari ages right, the two girls were more than old enough to be out adventuring, taking advantage of their maiden years before the instincts to settle down came with the onset of matron-hood. Around Aimee's height, the two girls had nearly identical orange-red facial patterns, a striking difference from their azure skin.

"Are you sure you know where you're going, dad?" Grouched one, her red marks resembling an old human crown. Her voice was less elegant than most of her kind, another distinguishing feature. "This looks like we're almost to the human quarters."

The old turian, almost obsidian in coloring with reddish facial tattoos, snorted, mandibles flaring. "I read directions, Lilitha, unlike some people I know. The makerts didn't assign racial living areas. Apparently they adjust the rooms to the needs of the people booking them. We're just two floors up once we reach the next intersection." There was no animosity in his deep voice, just fondness for his family.

The matron sighed, casting a look around. She was more of the lavender shade, a trait she'd passed on to her other daughter. "You didn't have to spend so much, Septimus. I would have been quite happy with something more simple."

"Nonsense. Who knows when we'll all have the same time off again? What's wrong with a little splurging?" The family dissapeared around a corner, taking a lift that was almost too full of passengers.

Aimee kept walking for what felt like a mile. She might have the highest security clearance on the ship, but that didn't mean she had to be given the best accomodations. None of the rooms on the _Neptune_ could be considered spartan. They just became smaller and simpler the farther back one went. Five minutes of walking finally brought her to her lift, which she then took down five more levels before reaching the hallway that led to her room. Just as she thought, as soon as she swiped her pass and the doors slid open, she'd been given one of the smaller rooms on board. It was consistent with her cover as promised. It wasn't as luxurious as the rest of the ship, but it would definately help her avoid attention.

Her omni-tool beeped at her while she tossed her duffel onto her bed. _Beep BEEP BEEP Beep. Beep Beep BEEP._ Aimee scowled, grumbling beneath her breath. Couldn't they let her have one hour of peace? "What?"

"Now is that the way to greet an old friend?" Purred a turian voice. The communication was audio only, but there was no need for a face.

"Chellik, how in blazing fireballs did you find this channel?" Aimee nearly dropped her katana, her hands were shaking so hard. Quickly, she set it on the bed next to her duffel. She didn't dare move in case she was dreaming. "The Councilor said that only five people besides himself would have acess and I've met all five."

The C-Sec's smirk was almost audible. "Please. Did you think that I'd let the Council steal the best partner I've had in years without saying goodbye first? Don't worry, not even the Specters will be able to trace this back to me, I made sure of that." He paused, his uneasiness carrying over the link. "Why didn't you come see me in person?"

Aimee flinched and blushed as if her friend was in the same room. "I...I'm sorry, Chellik, really. The Councilors were emphatic that I left today. I couldn't convince them otherwise. I tried." The pendant beneath her leather suit seemed to burn like a brand. Her hand strayed to its position above her sternum, tracing its lines out of memory. "They ended up saying that if I tried seeing you in person, you'd be looking for a new job."

"Blasted polititians," Chellik growled. There was so much hate and anger in his tone that Aimee pitied anyone who crossed him the rest of his shift. "This is why I told you not to get too good at your job. Do you know who the snitch is?"

"Even if I did, I'd need your promise you wouldn't beat them to a bloody pulp because of it." Aimee laughed, but even to her it was strained. They hadn't even left the Citadel yet and she was already missing her partner. "How am I supposed to case an entire luxury liner without you, Chellik?"

"Just like you managed that entire casino. Don't worry, Aimee, you're smarter and more capable than you think you are. With luck, nothing will happen and you've just gotten a nice vacation curtesy of the Council's pocket book. If anything does happen, though," Chellik paused, confidence and affection softening his voice. He cleared his throat. "You'll be more than okay. Try and have a good time."

Fighting down her momentary panic, Aimee made herself belive him. "I'll try, honest. With any luck, I'll be back in two weeks bored out of my mind. Keep the kids in line."

Chelik's laugh sounded a little forced. "No promises. Be safe, kid."


	2. Vortex

In the end, Aimee opted to leave her weapons locked in a safe she'd found beneath her bed. Even if the potential terrorists wanted to attack the ship, they'd be idiots if they thought they could pull it off while still within reach of the Citadel. No, more likely they'd take a few days, let the crew and security get comfortable before even thinking about acting. Enough time for her to get the feel of the ship's nitty-gritty lifeblood and make a few connections with the other passengers.

Her first stop was a less classy bar in the center of the ship. Appropriately named, _Vortex_ was already abuzz with a few dozen people. That was only a quarter of the ship's passenger list, though. Almost a thousand passengers, most of them making their way to the main observation deck, at the very top of the ship, where the absurdly rich people gathered. Aimee wasn't even going to try heading up there until the second day or so. Too much posturing and fake politeness for her taste. She smiled a little as she chose a table by the window and ordered a small glass of sparkling cider. Now she was starting to even think like Chellik, they'd been together for so long. He had a point, though. Get to know the truth of the ship's passengers before navigating the more difficult ways of conversation with the galaxy's richest.

She'd barely taken a sip of her faux-champagne when she felt the presence of someone behind her. There was nothing to react to, not yet, and there was no way to get a good look at the person without being obvious. Instead she tucked a wild strand of her hair behind an ear. Adjusting her black no-sleeve's high collar, she crossed her legs and turned more towards the view. The skin-tight black material was as glossy as her top, like one of the old leather outfits on Earth several decades ago. It hugged her curves well. She didn't like having men of all species staring at her backside so much, but it fit her cover.

It took a good five minutes before the person came up with the guts to approach her. "Pardon me if I appear rude, but don't humans usually travel with friends or family on vacations?"

Instantly pegging the speaker as a salarian, Aimee pivoted in her seat to face him. He was young and had a skin tone of blue-green, a combination that she couldn't quite put a name to. The white-and-red suit he wore didn't seem to rest comfortably on his slight frame. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What makes you think I'm alone? Could be I'm waiting for somebody and they're late."

"Not likely," the salarian countered, a slight lightening of his tone hinting at an increased curiosit. Defeinately young enough to not have developed some common sense like prying into other people's business, but not old enough to resist a verbal challenge when he heard one. He drifted more to Aimee's right so she wouldn't have to crane her neck so far. "You only ordered one drink, non-alcoholic. There's no...wedding ring-I think that's what you call it-on your left hand. Also you haven't looked at the door in over six minutes, which means you're definately not waiting for someone." For a salarian, his voice was low and slow enough for Aimee to understand as he counted down his list with his three-fingered hand. A smirk curled his wide mouth, he was proud of himself.

Aimee laughed despite herself, a grin spreading on her face. There was a reason she liked salarians as well as turians. "All right, I'm alone. You're by yourself too, otherwise you wouldn't have plucked up the courage to talk to me just now. Plus whoever you'd be traveling with would've kept you from noticing all that stuff about me. Unless they're incredibly boring." Curiosity piqued her otherwise bored senses. She hadn't even made the salarian until he'd gotten too close behind her for her C-Sec senses to tolerate. "Please, sit."

The salarian gave off the impression of rolling his eyes, though they didn't quite move in the same fashion. He took the opposite seat, declining a waiter's advance. "No, I'm thankfully blessed to be by myself. One nice, solitary trip to Thessia to clear my head. Family matters, you know."

"We're not going straight to Thessia. I think I remembered reading that there'd be a few stops on the way. Vacation resorts or something like that."

"That's my point. A nice _long_ trip to Thessia by myself. Kanjul Bau, head of Binary Helix R&D." There was a slight hesitation then he extended a slim hand. "I believe it's customary among humans to shake hands when introducing themselves, am I right?"

Unable to resist a chuckle, Aimee quickly obliged, adjusting her grip at the last second for the unique bone structure. "Ashley Strand. I'm no fancy scientist, though. My boss is sending me on this trip to write some 'fluff' pieces for the company."

"'Fluff' pieeces?"

"Articles that have little to no substence whatsoever." She waved her hand dismissively, not even bothering to fake the scorn on her face. Of all the cover stories she'd been stuck with over the years, this was definately the worst. A complete 180 from her true personality. "Not usually my thing, but I don't get to go on vacation much, either." Belatedly, the family name registered with one she'd only heard in passing. "Wait, Bau? Any relation to the Specter Jondum Bau?"

Kanjul groaned, running his hand across his face. "Somehow I knew you were going to say that. No, I'm not directly related to that ambitious..." A deep breath and his snappish voice was back in control. "It's, as you humans say, a coincidence. We don't even belong to the same tree of family's genetic records. How many other humans have the name Strand and aren't related to you?"

"Sorry, sorry." Aimee held up her hands in surrender. Curse her tendency to be too curious! Hearing Chellik's annoyed growl in her head telling her to stuff it before she shoved her whole leg don her throat, she flashed an apologetic smile. "Guess I should've realized you'd hate that question. I'm more used to working with people who take my big mouth in stride."

With the famous salarian emtional turn-around, Kanjul grinned. "No need to apologize. I get tired of hearing other people assuming that we know each other. So what do you usually write about if it's not 'fluff?'"

A sip of her drink bought Aimee a few more seconds while she planned on selling her fake occupation. He seemed like a friendly sort. If there was anyone she needed to know, she had a feeling he could point her in the right direction. "Similarities and dissimilarities between species. Usually in art and culture. I stay away from religion. My brain's not convoluted enough to maintain a debate with readers."

Her companion didn't have time to open his mouth before Aimee noticed a slight forward motion. Most of the passengers wouldn't notice a thing until the ship was actually moving, so she didn't say anything. The slight fluctuation of the mass effect fields of the engines were only milliseconds before the ship began to move away from the dock, anyway. So she didn't say aything except to turn her head towards the window again. No one would normally notice the engines activating. Another fact about her that made her different.

"Oh look, we're leaving. Guess the captain reserved his speech for the observation deck."

Kanjul didn't seem to be bothered, shrugging in an oddly human fashion. "Which is precisely why I came down here. Knowing the captain, he'd insist on following protocol and having most of the guest make speeches for another two hours. Not how I prefer to spend a vacation."

Now her interest was piqued and she leaned forward slightly. "You're familiar with the captain, then? I haven't heard much about him besides the fact that he's retired Alliance military."

"More information for your 'fluff piece?'"

"Nah, I just want to know more about the man I'll be trusting my life to for the next two weeks. Been so busy with non-military articles that I must have missed the ones on him."

"Captain Hartwell?" Kanjul shrugged again, proving Aimee's suspicions that he'd hung out with humans a little too often. "Most of his information's public record, but I'm guessing you're wondering what he's like as a person. Honestly, I don't really know. Keeps to himself, from what I heard. This is his first civilian posting since he retired, so no one really knows what he's like outside a military setting."

Aimee toyed with her glass, some of her hair falling down beside her face. That fit in with the personnel files the Council had given her. She just needed to make sure. "Well, I think I can guess that he runs his crew like they're a military vessel. Old habits are hard to break. My dad served in the Marines. Even after he retired he still acted like he was just on vacation, about to leave any time."

The salarian's eyes narrowed. An expression of interest any species could interpret. "Well, it's not the captain you'll have to watch your step around. It's his nutcase second in command. Craziest turian I've ever seen, to be serving under a human on a civilian liner."

It was like the galaxy had skidded to a standstill. Aimee carefully set down her drink, pressing her spine into the back of the chair. Her expression became guarded, one finger tapping the table's edge. Chellik called it her predator face, a compliment coming from a species decended from predators themselves. She needed to tread carefully with this line of topic. "A turian? Seriously? Are you just yanking me around?"

"I wish I was and yes, I'm serious. Apprently he used to be some big shot on Omega."

Her throat dried just a fraction. "Used to be? What changed? Surely he made more money in that job than here."

"That's the thing, no one knows." Kanjul's pitch rose, picked up a pace or two. He was interested in the subject, no doubt about it. "He never says a word to passsengers and only a few to his crew. Has a tempter like a krogan stuck on a starship for a week. I hear he's good at command, if a bit..."

"Unorthodox?" Aimee offered, her heart sinking down to her feet even as the _Neptune_ prepared for its Mass Relay approach. Denial at this cruel twist of fate struggled against the tide of despair. Maybe she was overreacting. There was no way she would be forced onto the same starship with Him again.

Kanjul wasn't one to miss the bitter tone in her voice. "Yes, to put it politely. How did you know?"

"What's his name?"

"Do you actually know him?"

"His name...please." At the last moment, she remembered to be civil. Her stomach roiled, not because of the cider or the sudden acceleration of the ship she wasn't supposed to feel. "I just need his name."

"All I know is his family name. Artalius, I think."

She had to leave. It didn't matter how it made her look, didn't care what questions it would drag up. The walls of the bar seemed to shrink around her, the air thick and hard to breathe. Aimee fled for the safety of her quarters, the memory of ghosts she thought long dead biting at her heels.


End file.
